


Is Hope A Glue Crazy Enough

by nescias



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: But it's not a main ingredient, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Flavored with angst, Fluff, Idk why I felt compelled to write this, Sharing a Bed, Someone pls teach me how to tag, but here we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25412251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nescias/pseuds/nescias
Summary: The Doctor had been carrying a stiffness in her shoulders and a sadness in her eyes that neither time nor the fam's adventures had managed to ease. Yaz wants so badly to help.Or: Yaz and the Doctor share a bed. If a trope ain't broke, don't fix it.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 22
Kudos: 105





	Is Hope A Glue Crazy Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Is it cliché? Horrifically so.  
> Luckily, I'm too tired to care, so it was written anyway.
> 
> Title from the line "Is hope a glue crazy enough to hold us together while we're falling apart?" taken from the spoken-word poem "Shoulders" by Shane Koyczan

_My mood’s fine._

Yaz was a lot of things, but she wasn’t an idiot. That had been one of the worst attempts at lying she had ever seen. And somehow, their entire day on Orphan 55 had only gone downhill from there.

She _wanted_ to be able to be angry at the Doctor, to demand better answers that actually answered anything at all, and maybe she would, except — that look in the Doctor’s eyes, when she had told them the name of her planet and species. It wasn’t just the cold mask she had been protecting herself with; there had been something small, something vulnerable, something breakable there.

So Yaz didn’t snap or push, much as she wanted to. She accepted the words that meant nothing to her, filed away “Time Lord” and “Gallifrey” and “Kasterborous” to be returned to later, and really _looked_. While the boys kept up their previous strategy of needling bit by bit, trying to get answers out of the Doctor, Yaz slowed down to actually watch their friend.

Where before she had glossed over the Doctor’s feelings as a simple mardy mood, a blustering storm that would clear up if they could weather through, now she wasn’t so sure.

The frantic dash through adventures never seemed to stop or slow. It felt like a nick in an artery, bleeding too fast to be stopped. The Doctor was burning herself up to keep up this speed, but Yaz didn’t know what she could do about it.

She gripped the console as the room shook with their landing, taking a deep breath to pull herself back out of her thoughts.

The Doctor’s face was terrifyingly blank for a long moment before she seemed to feel Yaz’s eyes on her. In the space between one heartbeat and the next, the Doctor curled her mouth into a grin, squinting her eyes in a very close approximation of joy. “Alright fam! Just as promised: Iceland, for hot springs!”

Ryan whooped, punching the air and slinging his towel over his shoulder as he led the charge toward the doors. “You’re the best, Doctor!”

“Oi, don’t speak too soon, son. We don’t know what kind of monster will come crawling out of these hot springs yet,” Graham said.

The Doctor rolled her eyes at their backs, and ushered Yaz out the TARDIS doors in front of her. “Alright, alright. Not _every_ place I take you has monsters.”

“Just most of ‘em,” Yaz added cheekily, smiling at the Doctor’s pout. It was so easy to get wrapped up in how right travelling with the Doctor could feel, that sometimes she even managed to forget how wrong things were right now.

They stepped out into the chilly air holding their overnight bags close, but luckily it was only a short walk to the lodge they’d be staying at. None of them were sure how, exactly, the doctor knew there’d be rooms for them, given that she seemed to have chosen this place on a whim without making any sort of call, but they were willing to just go with it.

“And here we are then, team!” she said, throwing an arm out in the grand gesture to the beautiful building in front of them.

It was a wood building, but the cozy furnishings on display through the windows and the perfectly-kept grounds hinted at it being more luxurious than a first glance gave the impression of.

Most exciting to the human travellers, though, was definitely the sight of steam from behind the lodge.

They all stumbled from the cold winter air into the warm lodge, and the three humans sunk into the plush furniture in the front of the building as the Doctor walked up to the counter.

“Didn’t know checking in required sign language,” Graham said, earning an amused huff from Ryan as they both watched the Doctor gesticulate wildly at the front desk worker. 

Yaz couldn't help but focus on the line of tension through the Doctor’s back, though. It wasn’t new at this point, but her muscles constantly being locked by stress had to be uncomfortable.

Ryan laughed, and added, “Uh oh, there comes the psychic paper. How much d’you want to bet we get booted out into the snow to fight their hot-spring-monster without even a decent night’s rest?”

“I’m definitely not taking that bet when travelling with the Doctor, son.”

Yaz rolled her eyes at their antics, standing and stretching before making her way over to the desk. She placed a gentle hand on the Doctor’s shoulder to try to draw her attention, before hastily retracting it when the Doctor went from stone to steel. It was giving Yaz a tension headache just _thinking_ about her poor muscles.

She cleared her throat. “Problem?” Yaz asked in her best friendly-copper voice.

“Not a problem, exactly,” the Doctor said as she scronched her face, “just an inconvenience.”

“Terribly sorry for the inconvenience, ma’am, but this is all we have available,” the front desk worker apologized.

The Doctor sighed and turned to Yaz. “So: two bedrooms available, but only three beds. One of the rooms that was supposed to have two twins has a queen instead.”

Yaz shrugged, looking forward to the night’s rest too much to care. “We’ll make do.”

The Doctor took the two offered keys at her agreement, and they went to where the guys were still bickering to tell them about the situation.

“Bagsy a twin bed,” Ryan jumped in with immediately.

“And as the resident granddad, I’m laying claim to the other,” said Graham.

The Doctor scrunched up her nose. “Pretty sure if we’re going by seniority, I’d be the first to get my own bed.”

“Ah, but do you have aging bones and stiff joints?”

Yaz said, “Pretty sure you want to give up a solo bed to Graham, Doctor. He snores so much that nobody splitting with him would ever sleep, anyway.”

“Oi! What ever happened to a little respect for your elders?”

Yaz was pleased that they managed to put a sincere smile on the Doctor’s face. It was small, but it was definitely there — until she amped up the wattage as attention drifted back to her.

“Alright then, you two take the room with the two beds —” she tossed Ryan the room key, and he grinned “— and Yaz and I will make do in the other. We’ll all meet back here for breakfast and hot spring soaking tomorrow morning. Sound good?”

The other two added only a short agreement before making their way toward their own room.

The Doctor shook her head fondly at them as they walked away, then turned back to Yaz. “Reckon we should go turn in, as well?”

Yaz nodded, and they made their way to their own room in a not-uncomfortable silence. Yaz, as per her usual now, was thinking about the Doctor and how she could get closer to her, offer her support.

The Doctor was probably thinking of what planet they were going to next, or what kind of monster was living in this resort, or some random story she planned on telling them later. Though maybe not — a quick glance up at the Doctor’s face showed a quiet kind of sadness the Doctor would never have intentionally let her see.

Like a coward, Yaz swallowed her words and looked away. The Doctor would have accepted neither comfort nor questions, anyway.

The room they stepped into was beautiful. The wooden bed frame held fluffy pillows and blankets that looked intensely comfortable even from a distance, and Yaz caught a peek of a huge ornate bathtub in the en suite. Altogether, it was luxury of the sort Yaz had never experienced before meeting the Doctor, but that had become fairly commonplace after.

The Doctor had given her so much, and Yaz wished she had a way to pay her back.

The Doctor immediately drew her bag into the bathroom with her to get ready for bed, and Yaz changed by the bed and then used the sink to brush her teeth and wash her face once the Doctor was done. After, she came out to flop on the bed and release her hair from its braids.

The doctor was already curled up at the desk studying a tome she must have brought with her, and made no move toward the bed even after Yaz climbed under the blankets on her half.

“Not coming to lay down, Doctor?” she asked, unsure why her heart was beating so fast.

The Doctor looked up, startled, like she hadn’t expected Yaz to ask. “Ah—I have a book, books actually, love reading, me. Was planning on staying over here so you could have the bed to yourself; don’t need much sleep, anyway.”

Yaz’s brow furrowed. “I don’t mind. It’d be much more comfortable to lay down, right?”

For a moment, she could almost see the gears in the Doctor’s head churning as she figured out the best way to turn Yaz down, but something on her face must have been left a little too vulnerable, because when the Doctor looked over at her she seemed to soften.

“You might be right,” the Doctor admitted quietly, and padded over to slip under the blankets on the other side. “You been doin’ okay, Yaz?”

“I’m fine,” Yaz said automatically, years of practice kicking in to answer the question before her brain had even really processed it. A moment later: ”Guess it can get a bit hard sometimes, all this running. Not that I want to stop!” she added quickly at the look on the Doctor’s face.

The Doctor reached out a hand to link with Yaz’s as a comfort, and wasn’t that just the Doctor to a T, always quick to jump in and comfort others even when she was the one that needed comfort the most.

Yaz’s heart ached a little, looking over at her. The Doctor looked a little lost, a little lonely, but no less caring.

Yaz squeezed her hand gently, shifting a little closer to make the contact easier. “Just feels like I haven’t had much of a chance to rest and recover recently, that’s all.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way Yaz, I’m sorry if I’ve been moving a little too fast.” The Doctor’s kicked-puppy look tugged at her heartstrings, prompting an immediate, “Don’t be sorry, Doctor! I’m just… glad we’re here now? And maybe we could visit a few more non-murderous resorts in the future.”

The Doctor nodded, and they were silent for a long moment. Yaz stroked her thumb along the Doctor’s hand, reveling in feeling close to her favorite person for the first time in — well, maybe since O, actually. That was a bit of a depressing thought.

“Don’t you ever tire?” Yaz blurted out, and the Doctor’s nose scrunched up adorably in confusion.

“Tire of what?”

“Y’know — the running, always running.”

The Doctor paused for a long moment. She was so quiet that Yaz almost missed it when she said, “Think running from it all’s all I really know how to do.”

And that just made Yaz so unbearably _sad_ that she didn’t even pause to consider before using their linked hands to tug her friend into a hug, pulling her close and burying her face into the Doctor’s shoulder.

They were there for a long moment, Yaz clutching at her friend who had gone completely still and stiff in her grip, before Yaz began to process how _completely she had screwed this up_ , and how she had probably pushed the Doctor away even further, and she was about to let go and spring away and apologize profusely and die of mortification elsewhere except —

Tentatively, a hand came up to loosely fist in the back of Yaz’s shirt. It wasn’t quite pulling her closer, but she definitely wasn’t being pushed away, so Yaz only held the Doctor close. Slowly, so gradually as to be almost imperceptible, the tension that the Doctor had carried in every muscle for weeks now began to melt away.

Yaz held her until the Doctor scooted even closer on her own, holding Yaz and pressing her face into Yaz’s hair. Yaz didn’t know if that was actually dampness she felt or if it was only imagined, but she didn’t pry into it further to respect the Doctor’s privacy.

The Doctor held her like Yaz was the only thing keeping her together, and alarmingly Yaz couldn’t dismiss the possibility.

It was strange, having this charming alien that had literally just dropped into her life one day in her arms. Someone with the entire universe in her eyes managing to curl up small enough to fit in her human arms seemed — incomprehensible, somehow, a blessing she had never expected to receive.

She wanted so badly to prove herself worthy of it, though. She held the almost-warm body close, projecting as much love and comfort as she was capable of, hoping she could be enough. Sometimes — most of the time — she felt like a drop of water trying to heal a whole desert. But right now, with the way the Doctor was holding her, she felt like the last candle in a dark room.

After a long while like that, Yaz couldn’t help but be overtaken by a large yawn, and the Doctor chuckled hoarsely.

The Doctor reluctantly made to pull away to let her sleep, but Yaz grabbed on a little tighter for a moment, an unspoken plea for her to say that Yaz didn’t expect to be filled.

To her surprise, though, the Doctor just nudged her into rolling over, before pressing every line of herself against Yaz’s back, causing Yaz to sigh in pleasure at the warmth enveloping her. Tentatively, an arm made its way around her waist, and a calf nudged into the space between her own.

Heat spread through her, a pleasant glow settling low into her belly, and Yaz drifted off to sleep entirely content in a way she could never remember being before.

She woke up sometime in the night with the Doctor asleep against her and puffing little breaths against her neck. The blankets were kicked down a bit, unnecessary. 

Yaz let a hand drift down to the one on her stomach, tracing a light pattern over it before she whispered into the dark, “I love you, Doctor.” Feeling too vulnerable leaving that statement alone, she added, “Please let me be here for you.” 

That didn’t make it much better at all, so Yaz gave up on managing anything better at some ungodly hour of the morning, letting herself drift off to sleep.

Halfway back to unconsciousness, she felt warm lips brush against the back of her neck. The Doctor seemed to say something against her skin, and Yaz couldn’t remember what it was next morning except that it left her with a warm glow in her chest and the best dreams she’d ever had.

When she woke up again to sunlight through the window, Yaz arched against the warm weight behind her, stretching and yawning.

Memory came back slowly, but when she did remember exactly who was mumbling protests at the existence of morning itself against her, Yaz allowed herself just one more moment of reveling in the embrace before pulling away.

She knew the Doctor didn’t usually allow friendly arm pats, let alone extended cuddling, and she’d rather pull away herself than be pushed out in embarrassment or disgust.

But to her surprise, the sleepy blonde next to her just threw out her arm to wrap around Yaz and pull her back into another cuddle.

Yaz laughed, partly because she was happier than she even knew herself capable of being but mostly because if she didn’t happy laugh she’d definitely happy cry. This was more than she’d ever allowed herself to want.

“Morning Yaz,” the Doctor mumbled against her, and Yaz returned a quiet good morning. Reluctantly, she added, “the guys will be waiting for us by now, probably.”

The Doctor only snuggled closer. “Let ‘em wait a bit longer. Y’know I’ve waited on Graham enough times.”

After a long silence, when Yaz had re-entered the liminal space between sleep and wakefulness, the Doctor whispered a small “thank you” into her shoulder, as though she could keep the words a secret if she buried them well enough.

Yaz gently squeezed one of the Doctor’s hands and said nothing. She knew when not to push, and this whole — everything — was still too new and fragile for her to blunder around breaking it.

Just for a moment, she lay there in the sunlight with the Doctor.

She was happy, and she allowed herself to believe that the Doctor could be happy too.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently the best motivation for actually finishing one of my half-baked oneshots was having something else important I needed to do.
> 
> Gotta love the power of procrastination!
> 
> If you have some other trope that's been used to death that you want to see a Thasmin adaptation of anyway, feel free to @ me in the comments and maybe I'll make this bad decision into a series of bad decisions :-)


End file.
